, land nurturing, caring for yourself.

When the earth is thirsty, and I am thirsty.
I hear myself through him.
Blossoming flower. Where it blooms beautifully -
Here - here or in the ground - in the heart?

This dark softness, friability,
as he needed all of us,
This temporary shelter from the wind.
I get loose before sowing.

And the apple tree, which this year institution
Tear me in its branches,
And unmanaged hands, the hands unmanaged,
They groomed me to do.

In the land nurturing, caring for yourself.

Grow grass, strinkšķēdama sound!
I skanēšu to you.
Consequently, a nurturing ground.
Consequently, land nurturing, kopsiet me.

anything all day only morning
I would
a white rose in his hand
and operated
well iedarīts
which then no longer jāizmoka

the job for
well iedarīts
already be dead on the afternoon
Sun set div hands trembling
div petals
Loose quiet

just cook a shadow over the run
this place as burnt

I get all-
the devil and the good,
I get all-
heinous and saints,
and hate me
and love to get,
and nothing better
I can not wish yourself.

I get-
Low fall and fly high,
and leave all
not being able to, but to be able to
through the hot youth,
to death in cold,
and nothing better
I can not wish yourself.

Outside

Outside the window as the dew, the dew
Morning has come zalgojošs
And my soul requires
And clarity to your

But life is not bass,
On the shoulders still dreaming and sleep,
And yet the softest lawn axis
On the hardest asphalt Stieg.

But waiting baltnepielūdzamība
Vilinādama and flies.
As a first kiss - so tough
There modiens to a new life.

Nesēdi evening
my friend,
on the stairs
and neveries stars:
her
like poets,
who shines so after death.


Looking,
basement apartment
Janitors lit candles
and six at the table,
calling the tram
by spoons
telecommunications being altered.

Clammy
and thin as paper
on sidewalks
settle gurusi fog.


Moon
yellow as butter.
It is a pity that not until
knife and bread,
but
after which it will go?

Dream yellow sandwich
fit now
me
right.
Both
then we sit quietly together.

As the cloud drift
rest my head
on your knees.
And your fingers
the burning head
I feel
the cool rain drops.

Look -
mist up to a month
Plan
as flies wing.

Fear of the dark trees,
they covered sweat
cold
the brass handle on the island. . .

Nesēdi,
my friend,
on the stairs!
Room
iekuršu fireplace
Thirteen logs.

Will remove the two pillows
of bed
and overlap them
on the floor
with a blanket,
which have brought
tents of the Kirghiz.

In vain
night will want to board out the window.
Aizvilkšu curtains in front of
soft and thick
the hair.

Noaušu quickly
you legs
and I will put under his bed
shoes.

Two sit
to fire
so close
and clothes
from start to glow smoke
as saskrieti horses.

On your lips
will descend
silent bird.

In my eyes
you
\'ll be sitting the whole
the womb.

And
I\'ll speak a story
for boys,
who walked around the fences
and pointed jokes.
Nesēdi a friend
on my stairs. .

Tonight, I will dream of
for all that higher than the towers.


Square on the bench -
on the bench, where the streetcar rumbles past,
or feel the smell of the meadows
Copper and wonderfully soft as rain?

Probably there birches
blue sky
stands as white as naktsreklos.

Jasmine.
Cows sighs houses.
Sheds, small as salary,

there could sink into the wall,
skūpstošā wall.

Hospitalu Street.

beautiful and dark parādenes
you lost
I will never see your hip Supa

but I have not come here by graceful

I saw more solo and Soups
there were about five in one place
with eyes red as a sad saulesriets

Paul had brought before
bidis are for one
because there were eleven
and had a free day

I pretended that they do not know
(I scar pretended to heal)
I Muku shops and purchases ten eggs
I know him
they are out of our schools

I do not want to participate in these feast
I do not know as adopted
it is then
the parent factories
and fathers somewhere Drop
and creates a flat-edged style
modified, which hides the scars

to forgive Labin
who live on this street
and his labumins
shows every day

but they do not and will not this cards street salt

one of those guys
old and pale
perhaps the poet -
all his life writes
pieduļķotām the blood
on the pavement
the poetry
to make everything stop

Home and blankly look
Judges rock gardens
have a free day
eleven
and curse

All that I could not, it turns out that I can
Everything you can not, it turns out, the ability to
I swallowed the tears, smiles at her sorrow
and fairy tales: all
I will rebate you the wind. . .

Everything that I did not know, is exactly what I can,
What I did not know how crosswords mines
I aiztramdu helplessness, smile of living
and fairy tales: I can.
And the sky unfolds.

I will. . .
And can be infinitely more to follow.
Love, hate, want.
Go outside and the wind is called
And love.

And the imaginary balcony breathe fresh air.
Time for me to spoon
a cup of coffee bag.

In the cup of coffee
on your desktop.
I am willing to melt
To you it is sweet. . .

Gauja fog

You look like the earth to go take a shower,
You listen as the dew falls in the river, -
And the need to go and need to speak more quietly,
And do not be startled the peace.
and desire that this silence is not the edge.
But the loud beats chest. And who knows it. . .
As land use scent linen sheet
We were both wounded in two Gauja mist.
On one hand the other panicle gently
At a hot coal - hot. And it seems -
Becomes bright white mist as the sun will be provided
With pērkonbalsīm nightingales sing. . .
Heart swallows a black rush,
You run away. I\'m staying. And then what?
And then - nothing. At the end of the song is no longer -
Not tomorrow, not next year, not that. . . Never!
I reach behind you but steep
And also where the wedding loud noise,
I will remove your handfuls of his
And in this place back in return.
To race with rain smell you in the face,
As pure and as bright as the smell can be,
And smoked fog Gauja bird down
And just as white, as is tonight.

flower merchant

Yes, I have finished filfaku
A what?
So I madder Sule?!
there is an even greater mess than Vefā.
E, pulled viņreiz
with a pair of lampočkām cache.
Izručījos a kakže.
Vovka me partkomā Sanco
For drivers not already. . .
Live, this morning brought flowers to the Volga
Dulles, for which
the tumor itself!
Olga Store by Sept.
and flowers are always Frish.
Viģiku bought recently
Drop by when the blood circulates in the slow
This cards? E, man, this cards you do not,
only as a friend - these are the graves.
A of this cards you can pick up
for brutes! Red carnations
Revolution, biedrīt, so to speak.
Blood flower

OK to live in my country,
What else will the other -
Achieved towards the mountains -
Birch ment in Boots:
Adjust the face, proud, tall,
Highly raise your head there. -
Elsewhere on the white birch is not as
And so proud of nowhere.
Also, the pride in me hot.
Where was the pride of all of us?
-It from You! - Birch says.
Friction satisfy: - This from you! -

Hard-working heavy to bear,
It is difficult not carry anything
It is difficult to escape from the world,
It is difficult to meet with the
Hard to love, hard not to love,
solitude for two difficult and tricky
It is difficult, difficult for children to nurture herself,
It is difficult to be without children,
It is difficult to make great work,
Hard izšķiesties trivia,
Truth is always hard to say
It is difficult to lie and make believe
Youth age is difficult and tricky
It is difficult in captivity, it is difficult for free,
Iezīsts hardness of the mother\'s breast,
It is difficult, it means - to live

fog watery window

Watery mist window you deny there is not worth it
Only you, I am loved,
How strange juice you dip your lips,
So that it glows red breath.

Boulevard where there are smoking, you met once
And no I do not know a moment\'s peace,
On the corner, where a beggar asking for money for yourself crooked,
My Sami soon as long horses.

Is it day or night wandering the streets alone;
Pull on the leaves of trees, and hope
That one of them will kiss or your view
But they are empty, I beru drains.

Where are you, my friend, whether it glow in the melt,
I retired from the face of the cloud,
Or from you to me as much as the desire to break,
In my harsh and angry poetry.

Watery mist window you deny there is not worth it
Only you, I am loved,
I guess my blood you dip your lips,
That it burns with a red breath.

Wolf looks at the forest in order to nourish their
And keep your back stiff savages
To warm the hut to the long chain
He do not start thanks that left alive.

Wolf looks at the forest by going to sell
On a piece of bread an